My BFG has taken an interest in trail running and has set his sights on tackling the White River 50 mile ultramarathon summer 2013. He’s been running with a teammate of ours who unfortunately was unavailable this past weekend for a trail running dude date with Jason, so I cautiously accepted my boyfriend’s invitation to run “with” him at Squak Mountain. Of course, by run “with” Jason, I mean “trudge far, far behind him” because he ran a 2:57 marathon in October and I have gained back a demoralizing chunk of the weight I lost earlier this year and have been intermittent with hitting my workouts lately. Nonetheless, I knew this excursion would make Jason very happy so I tagged along to tackle a 2 1/2 hour run in the wilderness. As far as trail running goes, I’ve only ever run at Cougar Mountain and Discovery Park (which isn’t really difficult trail running, but it does involve a lot of stairs), so I’m still a bit of a trail running noob. I do enjoy running on trails, though–I feel like a kid again, splashing through muddy puddles and trying to hurdle logs–so I’m making a half-ass New Year’s Resolution to do some more trail running in 2013. Unfortunately, I hate trail running just as much as I’m starting to enjoy it. It’s fun to feel like a child again, but I often forget how stupid and hard trail running can be. In Squak Mountain’s case, since I’ve been feeling down about feeling chunkier and less active lately, what better way to feel supremely dejected about how much fitness I’ve lost since Ironman Canada than to wheeze my way up a goddamn mountain at an average pace of 15 minutes/mile? Seriously, this mountain’s elevation profile is dumb. There were some hills so steep that I resorted to walking them since my walking pace was no slower than my sad attempt to jog. Jason, naturally, gazelled across the trail with his 8 ft long legs while I stub-legged a sad trot behind him, my heart rate in zone 4. I briefly thought of murdering my athletic, chipper boyfriend on numerous occasions as he’d make empty promises to me like “Take this left up here and it flattens out, I promise.” We’d take the left and climb a bunch more while he scratched his head and tried to figure out which flat part he was trying to remember as I glared hate daggers into his back. Or when he said it was really pretty at the top but failed to inform me that the last 0.5 miles were a steep-ass grade covered in frost and snow that I could not remotely run up. When I reached the summit I expected to see something grand like a majestic elk who would congratulate me on my impressive feat and crown me Queen of the Mountain, but instead there were some electrical towers and a lady eating a chunk of cheddar cheese out of a plastic bag. (I was really, really jealous about the cheese.) We turned around to head to the car, except my navigationally challenged boyfriend couldn’t exactly remember where we had parked, and I had been aimlessly following him the whole time so I didn’t know where the hell we were, so we ended up running out of the park and looping back to our car by cutting through a couple neighborhoods. He asked if I wanted to tack on an extra 10 minutes to make it 2:45 and I refrained from punching him in his tall stupid face, saying only “No, I would not like to run an extra 10 minutes,...

I love me some food. I know triathletes and endurance athletes often boast about how much they eat, but I’ve read the SlowTwitch “shame eating” threads and they’re pretty weaksauce. Admitting you ate two huge bowls of cereal or a Krispy Kreme donut pales in comparison to the splendid displays of fat-assery Jason and I have embarked on time and time again. One time we went to Claim Jumper and each ordered fried mozzarella sticks as an appetizer before polishing off fried chicken, mashed potatoes and gravy, extra biscuits with honey butter, and dessert. (Okay, I lied…we’ve done that more than once.) So you’ve got the faux-pig triathletes who are all “Tee hee, I ate so much yesterday” and then you found out it was something bullshit like an extra helping of quinoa or farro or some other dumb grain that sounds made up. And on the opposite end of the spectrum you’ve got lean, stringy-looking endurance athletes who you know are fast just by glancing your fat eyeballs upon their striated, beef jerky-esque frame, and those folks are so uninterested in food that sometimes they “forget to eat” and only do it because their bodies need sustenance. Forget to eat?! Who does that??? When I’m eating, I think about other food I want to eat, and when I’m not eating, I think about all the food I can’t wait to eat. I love food so much. Soooooo much. I consider myself an equal-opportunity food lover, meaning I’m just as willing to drop a few hundred bucks at a Michelin star restaurant as I am to gorge myself at the sketchy cash-only taco truck parked behind a Home Depot. Despite being a mega-huge carnivore, I’ll also be a good sport and hit up vegetarian or vegan places with my friends. (Though the last time I did that, I promptly came home, picked Jason up, and drove to get meat-filled deep dish pizza. Deep dish pizza is muy tasty.) I’m willing to try pretty much anything, whether it’s foo-foo holistic or offal-tastic. However, some of the stuff my teammates insist on passing off as real food has me unconvinced. Some examples: 1. Kale Chips Everyone seems to be on this kale chip kick lately. “Mmm, they’re sooooooo good! They really satisfy my craving for real potato chips!” I’ve had kale chips before and they’re alright, but I have to point out a couple things: They are absolutely not a substitute for actual potato chips. Real potato chips are delicious. Kale chips are dried pieces of kale. These two are not remotely the same thing. Only eat these if you’re sitting at home by yourself, because dark green flecks get shoved in every possible tooth crevice you can imagine, thus killing any socialization efforts at a party or your chances of getting laid if you’re on a date. Nothing says “Please don’t interact with me” like a wad of crusty kale hanging outcho toof. 2. Cottage Cheese Sorry, I don’t eat ceiling spackle. I don’t care how much you trowel into half a cantaloupe. It’s the one cheese I won’t touch because it’s not actually cheese, it’s the stuff that gets sucked out of Kim Kardashian’s saddlebags. 3. Anything That’s a Poor Substitution for Something Else Looking at some Runner’s World recipes, I’m seeing “Chicken Not Pie” instead of chicken pot pie and “Grilled Turkey Salisbury Steaks,” which I’m guessing is a poor substitution for actual Salisbury steak. Turkey doesn’t taste like beef, it tastes like turkey. I get that it’s lower in calories than beef, but don’t try to dupe me by saying it’ll quell my craving for cow. If...

I received an event invite on Facebook from a triathlete friend named Laura (not the same Laura who monologued me at Ironman Canada this year), who I highlighted in my Futile Quest for Abs post for having one of the most glorious set of stomach muscles I’d ever seen. She and I often overlap in age groups, meaning I get my ass kicked six ways from Sunday (or is it to Sunday? I get my ass kicked, that’s the main thing) in every race we both happen to be at. She’s raced at Kona and above all else is a seriously sick swimmer. I was hoping the event invite had to do with a brownie eating contest or perhaps a “Celebrate the holidays with a Christmas Story marathon and inappropriate amounts of yuletide booze,” but no, it’s some bullshit swimming thing. Correction, it’s not some bullshit swimming thing, it’s the ultimate bullshit swimming thing; specifically, the “Fourth Annual 100×100/10k Swim Holiday Extravaganza.” Never mind the fact that my brain cannot comprehend the notion of swimming 6.2 miles in a single day (or week, or month, for that matter, but I digress), or the twisted idea that this is supposed to be a “fun” gathering. No, what I don’t understand is why the hell someone like Laura would invite a swimmer like me to this horrible, horrible event. Is it like hazing? Some sort of sacrifice, maybe, where a fast swimmer must offer up a slow lamb to the Swimming Gods every year so she can continue to bust out sub-55 minute Ironman splits? Because I really don’t understand why this fast pod of swimmers would want to invite a manatee to hang out with their dolphin group. To get an idea of why this event is utter crap, here’s how Laura plans to organize the swim workout: Here is how the breakdown will work (tentatively set to be TWO pace groups, Group A and Group B). Please RSVP with your Pace group selection. If there is enough demand for a faster/slower sendoff, then we will have another lane…first come first served, 40 PEOPLE MAXIMUM…don’t miss out! SENDOFFS MAY CHANGE DEPENDING ON GROUP. In the past, we have done: 10×100 Warmup on 1:40, 1:50 20×100 free on 1:30, 1:40 5×100 kick on 2:00, 2:00 20×100 free on 1:25, 1:35 5×100 choice of stroke on 1:45, 1:55 20×100 free on 1:30, 1:40 5×100 choice on 1:45, 1:55 10×100 free on 1:20, 1:30 “10×100 free on 1:25, 1:30 (for those going 10k)” 5×100 warmdown on 1:40, 1:50 Group A will go on the faster sendoff. Group B will will on the slower sendoffs. At these sendoffs with no breaks between sets, Group A will finish in 2:35, while Group B will need 2:51. As always, some of the group opts to go 110×100’s to equal 10k. Your option to stop at 100 or finish 110. Some points: First of all, I am not fast enough to swim with Group A or Group B. I’m not even worthy enough to hand them their towels when they’re done. If I participated, I’d be looking at being an Army of One in Group Triple J. Secondly, I can’t hit 10×100 on 1:40 or 1:50 as a warmup. I can’t even do that as a main workout set because I am slow as shit. I could probably bust out a couple at most, but after that I’d be panting on the sidelines. Thirdly, 20×100 on 1:25 – 1:40? Twice?! My fastest standalone 100 ever has been like a 1:32 – 1:35, and that was in a short pool so I got to push off more. Eff...

So in my last post I talked about how I was going to do the Snohomish River Run 10k to get back into the “hey, I should probably do some regular workouts” swing of things. Well, the race was October 27th and I missed it because I wasn’t feeling well. I’ve had a stint of “not feeling well, feeling a little better, not feeling well again” yo-yo-ing for the past couple weeks. It’s been pretty suckalicious and has dragged me further down into the post-Ironman depression dugout. But since I feel bad about not running the 10k after saying I would, I’m going to highlight why the race was probably pretty awesome. 1. The finishers were all bad-ass. I saw how pooptastic the weather was that morning (pouring rain, which is different than the standard “weak sneeze of a Seattle misting” we usually get) and think it’s pretty impressive that people still got out there to run despite the chilly temps and soaking wet conditions. 2. The awards were pretty cool. I’m a fan of races that give out unique prizes instead of the token “yaay, you did pretty well” medal. The Snohomish River Run hooked the race winners up with some nice-looking mugs: Pretty neat–I love it when smaller races go the extra mile (no pun intended) to provide a unique experience for the athletes. 3. Everyone PR’d and got free cupcakes that tasted awesome but had zero calories. I’m 90% sure that happened, I just wasn’t there to experience it firsthand. If you did the race, let me know how it went. I’m sorry I missed out and am trying to get out of this post-Ironman trip to Funkytown, so any kicks in the butt would be greatly...

I’ve been trying to get back into training after Ironman Canada, but it’s been slow and infrequent. First I had to heal up from my Ironman Canada crash, and after that I’ve struggled with juggling my workouts with a demanding work schedule and the fact that Borderlands 2 came out, turning me into a gaming couch potato whenever I have a free moment. But now that I’m bigger, slower, and more lethargic, I figured it’s time to get off my ass and commit to training once again. The first thing on my schedule: the Snohomish River Run. The race is this Saturday, October 27th, at Rotary Park in Everett. There’s a 10k and a half marathon option available, but since I haven’t been running a whole lot lately, I’m just doing the 10k. I haven’t run an official 10k before but I imagine that it’s a pretty crappy distance–if the amount of misery I feel when running a 5k is any indication, the 10k should feel not-quite-as-shitty but over a longer distance. My stumpy legs and I are no good at these short-to-mid distance races. I’m all about duration: the longer you stretch out a race, the less mediocre I am thanks to sheer stubbornness. So yeah, I’m running the 10k on Saturday. I’m not going into the event with an “OMG gotta race this” mentality; I’ll likely just treat it as a training run since I’m planning to do either the Phoenix Rock ‘n Roll Marathon or the Arizona IMS Marathon this January or February. My goal at that point is to try and qualify for Boston since Jason qualified at the Portland Marathon a couple weeks ago (that way, when we travel to the race in 2014, I’ll be able to run it too instead of standing on the sidelines inhaling donuts like I did in Portland…which, admittedly, wasn’t a bad way to spend my morning, but it did make me feel like a guilty fat-ass). The Snohomish River Run is sold out, unfortunately, but if you’ve already registered and plan on running this weekend, hopefully I’ll see you there and will avoid collapsing before the race is over, gasping and asking for someone to bring me an almond croissant. (It’s pretty sad how quickly out of shape I’ve gotten in less than two months.) As always, I’ll follow up the race with a little recap, so stay tuned for...